


From Hollow Echoes, Comes a Voice

by ToothPasteCanyon (DannyFenton123)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Horror, The Mindscape, the Flock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 07:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20702573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyFenton123/pseuds/ToothPasteCanyon
Summary: As with so many mistakes Alcor’s made in his life, it started out so innocently. Did he mean for this to happen? Did he predict this was what would become of it? No! He was just messing around, being stupid… feeling lonely.He didn't mean to drag her into this, but he did, and now he's got to fix this mess he's made.





	From Hollow Echoes, Comes a Voice

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to StarlightSystem for inspiring this twoshot!

As with so many mistakes Alcor’s made in his life, it started out so innocently. Did he mean for this to happen? Did he predict this was what would become of it? No! He was just messing around, being stupid… feeling lonely.

_ It started out so, so innocently. _

Mizar was gone, again. Left him alone, like she always did, and maybe that was what made it so weird: _ like she always did. _ She died and he was alone and for once all he could think of was that he was alone _ again, _ and he just felt…

Frustrated.

_ Frustrated. _

Not even sad _ this time. _ Not even sad for a Mizar he watched grow old _ again, _ and he hated it! He should be sad _ this time, _ he should be sad _ every time _ but when he reached for it he couldn’t find it in him, not today, not tomorrow, not _ this time _ and maybe never again!

That thought terrified him, but he just… couldn’t.

Couldn’t pretend like this was a surprise.

Couldn’t pretend that this wasn’t inevitable.

Couldn’t pretend he didn’t know from the moment he met her that he’d end up right back here in the Mindscape with no one beside him, _ like he always did. _

_ Always, always. _

So maybe it wasn’t surprising that the sadness had faded over the years, over the deaths; that it had dried up, leaving an emptiness, a hollowness, a meaninglessness in his soul.

It left him frustrated.

_ Frustrated. _

And bored.

_ Bored. _

Sitting in the meadows of the Flock, deep in his Mindscape, Alcor sighs. He picks out a strand of grass and twirls it slowly between his fingers. The strange physics of this plane try to mimic reality; Alcor watches, and observes how it isn’t quite right. Isn’t quite the same.

_ Isn’t quite the same? _

Alcor frowns. He pinches the grass, and dissolves it into pure magic.

_ Isn’t quite the same? _

There’s an illusion of a figure’s shadow on the grass, cast by sunlight that doesn’t come from any sun. Without looking up, Alcor draws his knees to his chest, and rests his head atop them.

“Welp,” he says, staring down at the shadow on the grass. “I guess I gotta find a way to deal with you, huh.”

The shadow on the grass doesn’t look quite right. The shadow on the grass seems to move, seems to twist, seems to block out the light behind him. The shadow on the grass puts a hand on his shoulder, and he can’t bring himself to shake her off.

_ It started out so, so innocently... _

* * *

“Awkward sibling hug?”

Alcor just wanted to hug her, one last time.

So he did. Just like he’d fashioned the grass under his feet, he took the fabric of the Mindscape and wove it into a painfully familiar shape. From memory, he moulded her smiling face, rolled out her sweatered arms, plucked two stars from the sky and stuck the shine into her eyes.

When he was finished, she looked… like home.

He hugged her without a second thought, and even if she didn’t hug back - _ it _ didn’t hug back - he finally felt _ something _for the first time since she died. For the first time since she died, he started to get choked up, and he held her and he buried his face in her shoulder and he cried and he cried and he cried until he was out of tears to shed. It felt awfully good, and after it was all over, he felt better than he had in a long, long time.

He needed a good cry, every once in a while.

_ Awkward sibling hug... _

Now, Alcor feels the hand squeeze on his shoulder, her hand. It doesn’t feel quite right. He hesitates, and then brushes it off.

_ Brushes it off? _

It didn’t feel quite right back then, either. He was able to ignore it at first, but as soon as he looked at his creation with a clear head, he felt… weird about making it. Weird about hugging it. It was no Mizar, but a lifeless, soulless, thoughtless, empty imitation of her; like a mannequin, it stood absolutely still, its smile frozen on its face, its glazed eyes gazing past him, unblinking.

The more he stared at it, the more he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. It didn’t look quite right. It didn’t look like her. _ He shouldn’t have done that. _

So he destroyed it, and tried to put the image out of mind.

_ And tried, and tried. _

Alcor gives a sad smile at that. “I gave it my best shot. I guess… it just wasn’t enough.”

He stands up, and starts to walk forwards. From the sound of rustling grass behind him, he can tell she’s following in his footsteps. He sighs, and speaks again, quietly.

“Yeah, it wasn’t enough. It rarely is.”

A little laugh at that, not a happy one. He walks, and he stares at the shadow following him through the grass, and he thinks about what happened when Mizar reincarnated once again.

Reincarnated… into a family of pro-nats.

Yeah.

Alcor shakes his head. It wasn’t her fault.

_ Wasn’t her fault. _

It wasn’t. And it wasn’t like he’d never made a connection with her despite circumstances like that before, but, well, he wasn’t in the greatest state of mind when she came around. He probably didn’t come off as well as he could have. He tried to be nice, he tried to show her things she’d like, he painted rainbows across her room and summoned the Flock for her to pet, he tried so hard to _ make her like him- _

And she told him to go away. She told him to leave her alone.

_ Wasn’t her fault, wasn’t her fault... _

Alcor’s shoulders sag. That’s right.

It was his own.

The shadow on the grass moves forwards, and puts a hand on his shoulder. Squeezes, gently.

_ Awkward sibling hug? _ she asks, her voice echoing in a way that _ wasn’t quite right _, and Alcor suppresses a shudder.

“No, no, don’t do that.” He pushes her arm away, walks faster. “Please don’t do that again.”

_ Don’t do that? _

Alcor can hear the question in her words. He can sense her confusion, _ her own confusion, _ and he shakes his head. “No. Don’t. Sorry, I… I’m sorry.”

He can see the shadow on the grass stand still, unnaturally still. He can feel it staring at him, blankly, and he wants to crawl into a hole at that moment, he wants to escape that stare, he wants to be _ anywhere _ but here-

_ Sorry? _ It queries him, and he groans. Presses his palms over his eye sockets, and kneads his forehead. She’s so confused, and he’s such an idiot for causing this - he _ knew _ this was a bad idea from the start! He knew, but he kept going anyway!

He kept making these imitations of Mizar, and maybe it never felt quite right, but he could pretend. He could close his eyes. He could bury himself in its sweater. He could lie down on the grass and point out stars to the imitation beside him, like it was listening.

That almost felt like it worked, for a time. Just to have Mizar there, to hug her, to talk to her, to just be with her without the knowledge that one day she’d die and leave him alone… it was a wonderful feeling, when he could pretend it was real.

It was an addicting feeling, and when it got harder and harder to pretend, Alcor tried harder and harder to keep up the illusion.

_ Tried harder, and harder... _

It never moved, so he used a little magic to make it walk, make it sit, make it hold his hand and squeeze his shoulder.

It never spoke, so he used a little more to make it say things, small things like _ it’s okay, I’m here for you, I love you too. _

It never hugged him back, so he used a little more to make its arms wrap around him, just like he remembered.

A little more magic, and then a little more, and a little more, and _ stars he’s such an idiot, such a stupid, desperate, selfish idiot who somehow didn’t see this coming from a mile away! _

Didn’t see that magic is thought. Obviously. And when you fill a vessel with enough thoughts…

_ Such an idiot? Such a desperate, selfish idiot? _

Alcor hears her voice, her thoughts, her confusion, and he groans. Oh, stars, he _ really _ fucked up this time. He really, _ really _ fucked up. He took all his darkest impulses, all his most desperate thoughts, all his worst ideas, and he combined them all together…

Into _ a person. _

He made _ a person _out of that.

Holy shit.

Through his fingers, Alcor stares at the shadow on the grass. After a long hesitation, he slowly follows that shadow back, back, and turns around to look at the _ person _ standing behind him.

Stars, she looks so much like Mabel it _ hurts. _ And she smiles like Mabel too, smiles Mabel’s brightest smile even though all he can feel from her is confusion, confusion about where she is, about who she is, about what she’s doing, about what’s wrong with the being in front of her, the being that is her whole world. And Alcor is really her whole world; he’s all she’s ever known, all she’s ever experienced, and now he’s acting in ways she’s never seen before, ways she doesn’t know how to handle. She doesn’t think in words, doesn’t know how to use them, so she steals ones from his train of thought, desperately tries to arrange them into some sort of meaning.

_ A person? _ She asks at him. _ Confusion? I’m here for you. I love you too. _

Alcor hears her parrot him back, watches her stretch that smile just a little wider, and feels like the absolute scum of the earth.

She steps forwards.

_ Awkward sibling hug? _

He swallows, and shakes his head. “N-no. No, I’ve… I’m sorry.”

She just stares at him, unblinking.

_ It’s okay? Awkward sibling hug? _

There’s a sort of desperation in her voice, a panic spiking in her mind when he says no.

_ Awkward sibling hug? _ She asks again, like she needs this. Alcor grits his teeth.

“Um... Okay. Alright.” He spreads his forearms out. “Awkward, um… hug.”

She sprints towards him at that, and wraps him up in a hug so tight it knocks the air out of him. It almost feels like when Mabel used to hug him… almost. It’s so warm, so desperate, so comforting, so restricting, so familiar and yet so, so confused. It’s all wrong, and Alcor wonders how he’d ever deluded himself into thinking this was okay.

Oh, stars. He needs to fix this, right now.

She slowly calms down as she hugs him. When Alcor tries to extract himself, though, she holds on tight; he grimaces at that. Got to find another way to go about this… an idea strikes him.

Gently, gently, he wraps his arms around her, and picks her up, holding her against his front like a sleepy child. Once she’s off the ground, he starts walking, carrying her through the grass, heading for a tree in the distance.

There’s the Flock, grazing under its branches. They look up when Alcor arrives, eyes shining with equal parts curiosity and caution at the being he’s holding. He makes his way to the middle of the herd, and kneels down.

He gives her one more squeeze, and then, as gently as he can manage, he lowers his arms and sets a tiny lamb down on the grass. She stares up at him, confused.

_ Grass? _

“It’s okay.” Alcor speaks softly. “You’re okay. You’re safe here.”

_ It’s okay? _

“It is.” He grimaces. “I’m sorry, I really am. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re confused, and that’s my fault. I… I messed up.”

_ It’s okay, _ she says, and he sighs.

“It’s not. It’s really not, but… I’m going to make this right. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

She blinks. _ It’s okay. _

Alcor isn’t quite sure she knows what she’s saying, but he nods at that, and manages a quick smile.

“That’s right. It’s gonna be okay. I'll look after you.”


End file.
